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Authors: Glen Cook

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BOOK: Old Tin Sorrows
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“You want to play a lone hand. You’re the professional. I’ll put up with it. For a while.”

“Good. You don’t have a choice, anyway. And that’s nothing to get mad about.”

He got mad anyway. They always do. They all think they ought to be the exception to the rule.

He rode off in a huff.

I didn’t care, so long as he rode off.

 

 

13

 

My horse looked forlorn. I got it and led it down along the edge of the wood, looking for tracks. If I didn’t find anything before I reached the property line, I’d work my way back up the far side of the woods.

Our villain had cunning in limited amounts. The stunt would have been sufficient if there’d been no cause for suspicion. But there was.

I found where a horseman had come out of the wood barely far enough away to be out of sight of the place where Hawkes had gotten it. The spacing of hoofmarks said he’d been in no real hurry once he’d gotten away from the woods. Meaning he hadn’t been worried about explaining his presence.

That put Tyler and Chain back on the suspect list. They wouldn’t have been questioned because they belonged out here.

I’d have to question the survivors, find out who said and did what before they set out. Might be some subtle indicator there.

Whoever the killer was, he’d been bold. He’d ridden around behind the rise you crossed to reach the ambush, then had headed home. At least, I presumed that was what he’d done while the poacher-hunters were fussing over Hawkes. I lost the trail.

I circled and circled, quartered this way and that, and couldn’t find it again.The drizzle and the chill breeze overcame my devotion to my craft. I headed for the house.

I was stomping through that museum of a central hall, headed for a change of clothes, when Jennifer fluttered out of nowhere. She looked more feminine and frail and vulnerable than she had. She was flustered and frightened. I waited, though I had no urge to see her.

“Sergeant Hawkes died,” she blurted. “Right there in front of me. He just shook all over and made this funny sound and he wasn’t alive anymore.”

“When?”

“Just a few minutes ago. I was looking for Dellwood when I saw you. I need somebody to tell me what to do.”

If she was looking for comfort she’d come to the wrong man. I didn’t feel like comforting anybody. Not even a gorgeous brunette who had all the right stuff in all the right places, put together to make a dead bishop howl. My late night and early morning had me feeling like I was carrying an extra fifty pounds. Worse, I’d missed lunch.

I’d already determined that Cook was immune to my golden tongue. She didn’t even know what was happening. It went right past her. “Dellwood would be the best man to tell you. And speak of the devil.”

Here he came, moving without the usual sedate deliberation. “Miss Jennifer, you were supposed to stay with Hawkes.”

“He doesn’t need me anymore.”

Dellwood’s eyes got big. “He . . . He . . . ”

“Yes. What do we do now?”

I said, “Dellwood, I need to see the General. At his earliest convenience. I’ll be in my quarters.”

I was going to take a nap. I expected I’d have another long night. I’d better rest while I could.

I glanced back at Jennifer and Dellwood. Maybe they were good actors. Maybe they were genuinely frazzled and upset. Whatever, they had exaggerated just that little bit that told me they wanted me to see them in a favorable light.

I didn’t care if they cried or danced with joy. As far as I was concerned there was only one good guy in the house and his name was Garrett.

 

 

14

 

I woke up in time for dinner. I didn’t feel rested. The floor of my dressing room wasn’t that comfy. But it was safer than the bed. That tin man’s wounds proved that.

I decided I’d set up camp in one of the vacant suites. Make them hunt for me to murder me in my sleep.

Had Hawkes died because of me? I’d fallen asleep wondering. Had my presence nudged somebody into pushing his murder schedule? Things like that, that I can’t control, nag me.

I walked to the end of the hall, surveyed the central chamber. Jennifer was seated by the fountain, leaning against one of the dragon’s wings. Chain and Kaid walked past without acknowledging her. They were headed for dinner.

As I started moving I spotted the blonde on the third floor balcony opposite, in shadow, looking down. “There goes a theory shot to hell.” She glanced up. I waved.

Black Pete stepped out of the hall across the way. He caught my wave, frowned, returned it. I pointed down. He leaned over the rail.

Too late. She’d caught my gesture and drifted into deeper shadow.

I descended the stairs beginning to consider, if only half-seriously, the notion of a resident haunt.

I’d thought the blonde was Jennifer in a wig, making quick clothing changes. Their builds were similar, their faces much alike. My romantic streak made the blonde prettier, barely. I’d never seen them both at once. All I’d needed was some screwy motive on Jennifer’s part to tie the knot.

Sometimes you guess right and sometimes you don’t. I don’t a lot more than I do.

When I hit the ground floor, I’d convinced myself I should’ve known better. The blonde really was prettier. Moreover, she had a lonely, ethereal quality Jennifer couldn’t mimic.

Not that I knew much about Jennifer. I’d been on the job a day and hadn’t gotten close to anybody but Cook, and her not close enough. Chances were I wasn’t going to get close to anybody. These weren’t the kind of people who would let you.

The case looked stranger by the minute. At least it was more low-key than the bloody whirlwinds that had swept me up lately.

Peters met me at the foot of the stair. “You wanted something?”

“The wave? I wasn’t waving at you. The blonde was on the balcony under you. She ducked out when I pointed.”

He looked at me like he wondered if he’d brought in the wrong man. I figured I’d better distract him. “I have a question for you. Completely hypothetical. If you were to kill somebody here and wanted to get rid of the body, where would be the best place on the property?”

His look got stranger. “Garrett . . . You’re getting weird. Or maybe you got weird since you left the Marines. What do you want to know something like that for?”

“Just tell me. Asking questions is what I do. They don’t have to make sense to you. Hell, they don’t always make sense to me. But they’re the tools I use.”

“Can you give me a hint? If I was going to bury somebody . . . ” A little light went on inside. He thought I was looking for a place somebody might cache the General’s goodies. “It would depend on the circumstances. How much time I had. How good a job I wanted to do. Hell, if I had time, I’d put the body ten feet down where nobody would have any reason to dig. If I was in a big hurry I wouldn’t do it here at all. I’d take it up the road to the marsh, tie it to a couple of rocks and throw it in.”

“What marsh?”

“On down the road, the other side of the rise out front. Look out the front door, past the cemetery. You can see the tops of the trees. It’s about a hundred-acre swamp. There’s been talk about draining it because of the smell. Old Melchior, who owns the land, won’t hear of it. Take a look sometime. It’ll bring back memories.”

“I will. Let’s feed our faces before Cook forgets us.”

She was delivering the final load when Peters and I arrived. She looked at me like I’d betrayed her by not showing up to help. Some people. Whatever you do, they expect you to do it forever.

It was a meal like last night’s. No conversation except grumbles about how they might find the poacher and what they could do with him afterward. Nobody seemed suspicious of the circumstances.

Could that be? Somebody was picking them off and they didn’t realize it?

Maybe it was their background, all those years in the war zone. When my company went in, there were two hundred of us, officers, sergeants, and men, who had trained together and been hammered into a single unit. Two years later there were eighteen originals left. Guys went down. After a while you accepted that. After a while you accepted the fact that your turn was coming. You went on and stayed alive as long as you could. You become completely fatalistic.

I asked, “Who took care of the stables today?”

They all looked at me like they’d just noticed me.

Peters said, “Nobody. Snake was on patrol.” He wanted to ask why I wanted to know. So did the others. But they just looked at me.

My glance crossed Jennifer’s. She was thawing. She smiled faintly. With promise.

Dellwood said, “I spoke to the General. He’ll see you after we eat.”

“Good. Thanks. I was wondering if you’d remembered.”

All those eyes turned on me again. They wondered what business I had with the old man. I wondered what their theories were about my presence. It was obvious Peters hadn’t spread the word.

I asked, “What do you guys do for entertainment? This place is pretty bleak.” I’d forgotten to smuggle in some beer. Maybe tomorrow.

Chain growled, “Got no time for entertainment. Too much work to do. And the General won’t hire anybody on. Which reminds me, troops. We got to cover for Hawkes. Which means we have to let something else go to hell.”

Wayne said, “The whole place is falling apart. Even with us hopping like the one-legged whore the day the fleet pulled in. Dellwood, you got to try to get through to him.”

“I’ll try.” Dellwood didn’t sound optimistic.

They went on, now the ball was rolling. I learned more than I wanted to know about how and where the place was falling apart, what had been allowed to slide too long and what had to be done right now to stave off disaster.

Tyler said, “I say we worry about that damned poacher in our spare time. And say the hell with trying to catch the others. The General don’t come out no more. How’s he going to know we’re not wasting time looking for them? They want a few deer, I say let them have them. We need to keep this place from falling apart.”

That debate raged a while.

Jennifer contributed not a word. She seemed more interested in me. My fatal charm. My curse. Or maybe she just wondered how I’d gotten those old boys so animated.

 

 

15

 

I helped Cook clear away. Dellwood helped me help. He didn’t seem inclined to let me out of his sight. Cook was as tight-lipped as she claimed with a third party present.

Dellwood wanted to talk. He started as soon as we left the kitchen. “I hope you have some progress to report. It would be a good time to give the General an emotional lift.”

“How come?”

“He had a good day today. He’s been alert. His mind has had a keen edge. He managed to eat his lunch without help. Your presence seems to have motivated him. It would be nice if you could give him something to keep him feeling positive.”

“I don’t know.” What I had to tell the General wasn’t positive. “I’ll try not to bring him down.”

We were watched going up. This time I wasn’t wrong about it being Jennifer. A strange woman. Pity. She was gorgeous.

I didn’t get it. When was the last time a woman like that left me cold? I couldn’t recall. Female is my favorite sport. Wasn’t anything obviously wrong with her, either. Maybe it was bad chemistry. The opposite of lust at first sight.

“Who raised Jennifer?”

“Cook, mostly. And the staff.”

“Oh. What became of them?”

“The General released them to make room for us. We should’ve been able to manage the place, putting the cropland out for rent. Hasn’t worked out, though.”

“He kept Cook. Why her?”

“She’s a fixture. Been here forever. Raised him, too. And his father before him, and his father, too. He has his sentimental streak.”

“That’s nice.” He hadn’t been sentimental when he’d been my supreme commander. Of course, I hadn’t gotten to know him.

“He takes care of his own.” Dellwood opened the General’s door, seated me in the room where I’d met the old man before. Old Kaid was stoking the fire. “Wait here. I’ll have him out in a few minutes.” The temperature was obscene.

“Sure. Thanks.”

It was more than a few minutes but the old man was worth seeing when he came out. He had a smile on. His cheeks had gained some color. He waited till Dellwood and Kaid departed. “Good evening, Mr. Garrett. I take it you’ve made progress?”

“Progress, General, but I don’t have any good news.” Had his health improved because the poisoner had backed off with me around?

“Good news, bad news, better get on with it.”

“I went into the city this morning. I put some acquaintances to work tracing the missing items through those people who deal in articles that stray from home. They’re competent. If the thief disposed of anything through those channels, they’ll find out and get a description of the seller. I do need instructions. Should they recover the articles? If they’ve been sold, you could be at the mercy of the new owners.”

“Very good, sir. Very good. Yes. By all means. I want to recover whatever I can. I expect you’ll have problems getting them back from someone who’s taken a fancy to them.” He smiled.

“You seem in good spirits, sir.”

“I am. I am indeed. I haven’t felt this well in months. Maybe years. Not your doing but it did start after your arrival. You’re good luck. If I keep improving at this rate, I’ll be dancing within the month.”

“I hope so, sir. Sir, that brings me to the bad news. But first a confession. I didn’t come out here just to unmask a thief.”

“Ah?” There was a sparkle in his eye.

“Yes sir. Sergeant Peters believes someone is poisoning you slowly. He wanted me to find out who. If it’s being done at all.”

“And? You’ve found something?” He seemed troubled now.

“No sir. Nothing like that.”

That pleased him.

“On the other hand, there’s no negative evidence. And one has to wonder about your recovery. It pleases me but I’m suspicious by nature.’

“And this is your bad news?”

“No sir. That’s nastier. More pervasive, if you will.”

“Go on. I’m not one to slay the bearer of ill tidings or to ignore them because they aren’t what I want to hear.”

BOOK: Old Tin Sorrows
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